


St. Valentine’s Fire

by Lovedmoviesb, msdoomandgloom



Series: The Rookie and Her Captain [8]
Category: Pitch (TV 2016)
Genre: AU, Bawson - Freeform, F/M, Firefighter AU, Now with a hint of smut, Valentine’s Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-03-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:48:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22732057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lovedmoviesb/pseuds/Lovedmoviesb, https://archiveofourown.org/users/msdoomandgloom/pseuds/msdoomandgloom
Summary: Fire Captain Mike Lawson and Rookie firefighter Ginny Baker don’t exactly get off to the best start. It doesn’t seem to do much to quell the spark between them. A Bawson AU collaboration with msdoomandgloom
Relationships: Ginny Baker & Blip Sanders, Ginny Baker/Mike Lawson, Mike Lawson & Blip Sanders
Series: The Rookie and Her Captain [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1471262
Comments: 6
Kudos: 81





	1. The Fight

It began the way most big city squabbles began: over a parking space. 

On any other day, perhaps, the subject of the front-and-center space in San Diego Fire Station Number 4 might not have even been an issue. There were half a dozen other spots sitting vacant in the modest but well-kept lot. However, this was not an ordinary day, and these were not ordinary circumstances. 

For one thing, Ginny Baker was running late for her first day of work. Unfortunately, so was Mike Lawson. 

Thirdly, it was the hottest day of the summer so far, and Mike’s air conditioner had chosen this time to klonk out. Normally, he’d take it in before work to get fixed or tinker with it himself during shift downtime. This morning though, his ex-wife had made a most unwelcome appearance, arguing over some banal detail of the divorce that was supposed to be behind them. These two elements combined did little to improve Mike’s mood. He was prone to surliness at the best of times. 

This was not the best of times. 

Ginny, for her part, was unaware of Mike’s woes. Her focus was entirely on the clock above her car radio, watching as the minutes seemed to click unnaturally fast towards her scheduled shift. Tardiness was not a trait she oft possessed, but a restless night in bed led to her sleeping through her alarm. She woke up that morning with mere moments to spare, stuffed herself into her new uniform, pulled her curly hair into a haphazard bun, and hurtled towards the station. 

It was this same sense of urgency that drove her to swing her modest Toyota Corolla past an aging Dodge Durango and into the spot closest to the Fire Station Door. She was leaping out of the car, shoving her keys into his pocket when she heard the first shouted words that would lead her down the road to disaster. 

“The hell do you think you’re doing?” The voice was deep, masculine, and clearly irritated. 

Ginny spun on her heel, squinting into the sun at the behemoth vehicle bearing down on her. The driver’s side window was rolled down and a man was glowering at her behind a wild bush of a black beard.

“To work,” she answered, meeting his tone note for note. She locked her car, kicking the door shut with the toe of her foot. 

“Really,” sarcasm dripped from his every syllable. 

“Really,” Ginny answered. She paused, taking in this new adversary. This attitude was nothing new; she’d seen men like this in college, in her EMT classes, on the scenes of emergencies, and during the fireman’s exams. Proving them wrong was her MO. Squaring her shoulders, she prepared for battle. 

“So you thought you’d just park front and center, huh?” the driver tugged at his beard, going red in the face, whether from anger or from the heat of the day she couldn’t be sure. 

“I don’t have time for this,” Ginny scoffed, doing her best to scowl back. 

“Guess we better stop the world then,” her adversary crowed. “There’s a woman in the parking lot who’s in a rush.”

“As opposed to a man who thinks the world revolves around him?” Ginny fired right back. 

He laughed out loud at that, throwing his car into park almost violently. He slammed the door of the car open, landing on booted feet to face her down. They were nearly eye to eye but he outweighed her easily. His beard wasn’t the only wild thing about him. Bulky, muscled, and royally pissed off, Ginny began to wonder whether this was an enemy she could take down. 

Not that she had _any_ intention of backing down. 

“If the parking spot really means that much to you, you can have it,” she baited, swinging her keys into his line of vision. Internally she winced at the sight of her miniature Minnie Mouse keychain, quickly maneuvering it into the palm of her hand. 

“Just like that?” The man raised a thick dark eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest. 

They were attracting an audience now, from inside the station and without. Half a dozen men were peering curiously at them, looking one part fearful, and one part entertained. Ginny recognized Blip Sanders, an old friend and a frequent ally among them. She shot him a hopeful look, and was met with a wide-eyed, desperate, and silent plea by Blip to her to end this. 

Fat chance of that. Ginny turned away from her new coworkers. 

“Sure,” she smiled saccharinely, addressing her parking lot foe. “Just move my car, and it’s all yours.”

His laugh this time was less of a chuckle and more of a bewildered bark. He uncrossed his arms, catching her keyring easily in one large palm as Ginny tossed it to him. 

“That right, Rookie?” His grin turned predatory. “You gonna make me move your car?”

“Why not?” she challenged. Realistically, there was not a thing she could physically do to move this man in front of her. Still, she wasn’t going to start out her dream job getting pushed around. “And don’t call me Rookie,” she added. “I have a name.”

The grin grew more sinister still. “Oh, that I know Baker,” he said, his voice deadly calm. “First female firefighter in station history. You ought to be proud.”

“I am,” she lifted her chin, a feeling of dread blossoming in the pit of her stomach. Blip’s eyes widened still, and he began to shake his head, looking as though he was watching a train wreck he was powerless to prevent. 

“Let me explain something to you, since you seem to think you know everything, Rookie,” the man continued. “There’s a way of doing things around here. You might call it a hierarchy.”

Ginny opened her mouth but he silenced her, holding up a broad hand. 

“And before you get started on your “respect me, girl power” crusade, this hierarchy is earned, Rookie. It’s not given. See, I’ve been here a long time. You were probably still one of those precocious teenagers when I started earning my spot. Turns out I was so good at earning my spot, that they put me in charge here.” He paused for dramatic effect. 

Realization dawned. The bottom dropped out of Ginny’s stomach, taking her heart diving along with it. 

“Captain?” she ventured. 

“That’s right,” he clapped his hands. “Captain Mike Lawson. Nice to meet you, Rookie.”

The world seemed to spin suddenly on its axis.

“Oh God,” she managed to get out, throat tight. “I’m sorry--”

Mike’s clapping intensified. “Look at that,” he feigned enthusiasm, “she can be taught.”

“Captain, I didn’t know--” she felt herself stammering. 

“Now you know,” Captain Mike Lawson stared back at her. With a flick of his wrist, he tossed her keys back at her. “Move your car, Rookie.” He glanced over his shoulder at the Durango. “And since I’m in a teaching mood, you can move my car too.” He patted her on the shoulder.

Ginny stood still, face burning, aware of the eyes of Blip, of her new squad and captain on her. 

“And Rookie?” Mike paused. 

Ginny swallowed. “Yes, Captain?” she asked, satisfied at least that her voice didn't waver.

“Might want to hurry up,” he suggested. “You’re late on your first day.”

The squad filed in after him, chuckling, chatting among themselves. Only Blip remained behind. 

“Gin…” he started on a sigh. 

“I didn’t know,” she echoed. She sucked at her teeth, staring at the cars in front of her. 

“All that Googling and you didn’t find a picture of him?” Blip asked, incredulous. 

“He…” Ginny raked her brain, trying to put the pictures together. “He didn’t have the beard!” 

She knew exactly what Mike Lawson looked like, or rather, what he was _supposed_ to look like. She would never admit it to anyone, but she’d poured over his work history, including photos of a young, tan, beaming man with rippling biceps. All that searching was for research purposes, of course. It would be inappropriate to have a crush on her boss before even meeting him. 

She supposed fighting with him in full view of their squad was substantially worse. 

Blip only snorted, “Get back in your car, Gin,” he shook his head, walking towards Mike’s still open door. 

“I’m supposed to move it,” she protested. 

“And crash his car on top of it all?” Blip laughed. “I’ll do you a favor this once. Don’t steal his space again tomorrow.”

Ginny blushed but complied, moving her car out of the way. They shuffled spaces, with Blip waiting impatiently for her to join him at the door. 

“You ready to go in? Got the egg off your face?” he asked. 

Ginny sighed. “They’re only going to remember this now.” Shame burned hot in the pit of her stomach, mixing with her irritation into a volatile cocktail. 

“So change their mind,” Blip shrugged. “You’ve done it before.”

There was some comfort in that, small though it may have been. Ginny’s mind turned back to their boss, the deep lines in his face as he scowled her down. 

“Is the Captain always like that?” Ginny asked under her breath. Her first impression didn’t match her expectation of him at all. 

Blip sighed. “No,” he said. “Today’s...something else.” Blip left it at that, refusing to divulge more. It was all well and good for Ginny. Silence left her to wallow in her misery in peace. 

They trudged up the stairs, Ginny trailing behind Blip. Captain Mike Lawson was waiting at the top. 

“Orientation time, Rookie,” he announced casually, as though they hadn’t just had a public row outside. 

Ginny nodded, determined to hold eye contact if it killed her. Mike was nonplussed. “Yes, Captain,” she responded, all business.

“Is she always like that?” Mike asked Blip as Ginny walked away, posture ramrod straight. 

Blip only laughed, shaking his head. “You’ve got a way of bringing that out in people, Captain.”

“What’s that mean?” Mike asked, biting back amusement. 

“Cut the kid some slack,” Blip whispered, his eyes on Ginny as she fumbled to open her locker. One of the squad was kind enough to step in, showing her how to jimmie the aging lock open. 

“She’s not a kid, last time I checked,” Mike observed. “Young maybe. We were younger.”

“She just wants to impress you,” Blip muttered. 

In truth, she had. Mike had combed over every inch of her file, wondering who this woman-wonder joining his team was. She was bright-eyed and dimpled in her photo, eager even. He hadn’t expected the stony glance of the woman he’d met this morning in the parking lot. 

“She’s got a lot to learn,” Mike said aloud, raising his eyebrow at his friend. 

“That’s why you’re here,” Sanders pointed out. “Be nice. Please?”

Mike grinned, following after his new rookie. “No promises,” he smirked.


	2. The Egg Incident

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mike and Ginny find some mutual ground

The Rookie was trying. Mike had to admit that to himself (though he would never say it within shouting distance of Baker). Her smart mouth had far and large disappeared since their parking lot battle. Turns out, when she wasn’t too pissed to think clearly, she had lots of actually amusing and intelligent things to say. 

“Hey Captain,” she caught him on the stairs leading up to the station door. 

He was flushed, his knees screaming from the run he’d just taken. He supposed one day he might have to drag himself back to physical therapy. The thought alone was enough to make him grumpy. 

“To what do I owe the pleasure, Rookie?” Mike looked back, then quickly away. Ginny was sweat-drenched and pleased, her face split into a wide, dimpled smile. 

“I think I found the best egg sandwich in the neighborhood,” she announced triumphantly. “Cheese, bread, runny egg…” she held her hand up, brandishing the wax paper-wrapped monstrosity. “It’s perfect.”

Mike shook his head, scoffing. He could see the grease seeping through. “Don’t tell me you’re spending hard-earned money on that crap, Rookie.”

Ginny scowled predictably. “It’s not crap,” she argued. “It’s cuisine.”

“It’s cholesterol,” he corrected, shaking his head at her. 

“Not all of us have to watch what we eat,” she parried. “Besides,” she shrugged. “Thick thighs save lives, Captain.”

Mike managed to quell the burst of laughter rising up in his chest. “Really, Rookie?” He glanced down at her legs then quickly away, settling his gaze on his own muscled thighs. “You checking out my quads?”

Her eyes went wide as saucers, her cheeks tinting rose-colored. “They’re hard to miss,” she said before suddenly speeding up ahead of him. 

“That’s right,” Mike called after her, grinning flat out. “Run off and eat your junk food in shame.”

She tossed him a side eye over her shoulder, sticking her tongue out at him. 

“Told you you’d like her,” Blip Sanders cornered Mike in the locker room a few minutes later, correctly reading the smirk Mike was wearing as a reaction to the young woman outside. 

Mike plunged a toothbrush in his mouth, buying himself time to respond to his best friend and partner in crime. Blip’s face was creased in a knowing smile, his deep brown skin still dewey from the showers. 

“She’s alright,” Mike admitted around a mouth full of baking-soda-and-mint flavored foam. 

“She thinks you’re better than alright, you know,” Blip leaned forward conspiratorially. “She knew your name before she got here. Got a little bit of a hero-worship thing for you.”

“Who doesn’t?” Mike spat, rinsing his mouth out. There was no reason he should have felt so pleased about that statement. She was his subordinate, his teammate, the first woman to ever grace the station with her presence. It wasn’t supposed to matter if she liked him. He wasn’t supposed to see her gender at all. 

The Rookie had done a great job of that with the rest of the squad. She could outrun and out lift half of them without breaking a sweat. She could swear with the best of them, joke with the best of them, and she knew her shit. In no time at all, she was the whole squad’s sister, the center of attention. Mike wouldn’t mind so much if he wasn’t feeling some distinctly unbrotherly affection for her.

“She couldn’t be that big of a fan,” Mike added, more for himself than for Sanders. “She didn’t recognize me on day one.” Once the shock of the miniature altercation wore off, Mike had to admit it was hilarious. She’d skirted on eggshells for a week before he called her into his office to call a truce. Since then, she’d haunted his footsteps, making it her personal mission to get him to smile as often as possible. 

“I don’t think she expected that animal hanging off your chin,” Blip laughed. “It isn’t exactly regulation.”

“Lucky for me, and all of you, I’m not the one running in burning buildings anymore,” Mike deadpanned. A 3-alarm fire and a falling structural beam had taken care of that nicely. “So I get to keep my beautiful chin-cozy, thank you very much.” He tugged it fondly, smoothing the wiry ebon hairs. 

“She wants to be like you,” Blip shrugged. 

“Does she know about my knees?” Mike didn’t miss a beat. “Or my back?” He could still feel the burn of the impact so deep in his tissue that it was a part of him now. 

“Probably,” Blip was nonplussed. “She likes you anyway.”

The Rookie’s massive smile as they all emerged clean and ready to work did little to dispel Blip’s claims. Mike fixed the scowl on his face, barking out orders that sent them all scattering. 

“Rookie,” he finished, keeping his eyes on the tablet in his hands and not Ginny’s still-wet curls clinging to her neck and cheeks. “You’re on food duty. And don’t feed me some women-in-the-kitchen crap. It’s been two months. It’s your turn.”

Ginny rolled her eyes, but grinned. “Yes, Captain,” she complied, turning to joke with Tommy as he strolled by. 

“I like the sound of that,” Mike quipped. And he did. He headed to his office before he could think too much about it. 

“What are you making?” Blip leaned over the counter to watch as Ginny retrieved bowls and ingredients. 

“Omelettes,” Ginny answered with confidence she wasn’t sure she had totally earned. 

“Right…” Blip drummed his fingers on the counter. “Do you need help?”

“The Captain told  _ me _ to do it,” Ginny reminded him. 

“Right,” Blip repeated. “And since your little day one blunder--”

“Sanders, we agreed never to speak of it. Do I have to tell Evie you brought it back up?”

“Leave my wife out of this, Baker,” Blip didn’t even flinch. “I’m just saying, you’ve done a good job digging yourself out of that hole. I think Lawson might almost like you”

Ginny’s cheeks still burned to think about it. Most of the squad had found her day one transgression amusing rather than obnoxious. Still, it was hard enough being the youngest and the only woman without adding to the list of obstacles she needed to overcome. She’d worked harder the last two months than she ever had in her life. 

Not that it was all bad. 4-day shifts meant you got to know people quickly. And while she still felt very much like the kid sister of San Diego Fire Station No. 4, she had a place here now. 

“Thanks,” she told Blip, cracking an egg into a mixing bowl. It shattered in her hand, shell shards scattering everywhere. 

“Whoa there, Incredible Hulk,” Blip’s eyes widened. “You sure you don’t need help? Evie wouldn’t want me to choke to death. We’ve got the twins now, and we both agreed to not leave the other alone with them.”

Ginny wiped her hands on a towel, snapping it at Blip until he flinched away. “I got it, Sanders.”

“Easy for you to say,” Blip nudged the wrinkled wax paper remnants of her breakfast at her. “You already ate.”

Ginny nudged it into the trash can. “Go rest, or workout, or whatever it is you boys do when I’m not with you.”

Blip smiled. “Yes ma’am,” he told her. “Try not to set the building on fire. That would be embarrassing for everyone.”

“I got it,” Ginny waved him off, seizing another egg. 

It was after the fifth egg shattered that Ginny realized she did not, in fact, have it. 

What she  _ did _ have was a bowl of yolk and eggshells, mixed indiscriminately together. She was five minutes in to trying to fish them out with a fork when Mike cleared his throat loudly and pointedly. 

“Don’t tell me you’re as good at cooking as you are at parking, Rookie,” Mike spoke up once he had her attention. 

He was treated to the sight of her flushing under his scrutinizing gaze. In the rare moments that he managed to render her speechless she tended to gape at him like some sort of gasping fish. There was no reason for a person to look pretty while making this kind of expression. Apparently, Ginny Baker’s face didn’t adhere much to reason. 

“It’s just a few shells,” she evaded, quickly tilting the bowl away from him. 

“A few,” Mike stepped closer, arms crossed over his chest. “Baker, there’s more shell than egg in here.” He reached out a hand to pull the bowl away from her. She held tight. 

“Well,” she shrugged. “There must be something wrong with the eggs.”

Mike laughed out loud. “Or the cook,” he suggested. 

She glowered. He laughed harder. 

“Alright,” he came around the counter, reaching for the cardboard carton. “I’m going to show you how to do this, Rookie.”

“You can cook?” she asked incredulously. 

“I can,” he answered. “Because I’m a grown ass adult, and grown ass adults know how to cook.”

Ginny harrumphed. “Tell my brother that,” she snarked. 

“If he’s worse than you, then he’s a hopeless case, Baker.” Mike lifted one of the eggs out and placed it in her hand. He seized a second one for himself. “Watch and learn.”

With a squeeze of his palm, the shell cracked flawlessly, depositing a perfect sphere of butter-yellow yolk into the glass bowl. Ginny gaped even wider. 

“How--” she began. 

“Like I said, Rookie,” Mike reached for a second, satisfied to repeat the performance, “watch and learn.”

For once, she did as she was told. The eggs were a pretty hopeless case, but she could dice veggies well enough. Mike put her to work as he scrambled, watching as she chopped onions with the finesse of a sword fighter. 

“Not bad,” he complimented. “You’re at least not bleeding in the mushrooms.”

“I’m good at some things,” Ginny reminded him, watching as he tipped the mixture into a hot skillet. 

“You’re good at plenty, Rookie,” Mike told her. “Don’t sell yourself short.”

“Thanks,” she mumbled, suddenly shy. Mike watched her for a moment, wondering why his heart seemed to be contracting almost painfully. 

“Alright,” he cleared his throat. “Time to add the good stuff.”

They reached for the bowl, hands brushing. Mike let go first, yanking away like he’d been scalded. Ginny charitably didn’t comment on it. She sprinkled in cheese, veggies, and bacon with studious concentration, watching as the egg bubbled and solidified. 

“Back up,” Mike instructed, brandishing the pan. Praying to the gods of the kitchen that he wouldn’t mess it up, he flipped the omelette over with panache. 

Ginny gasped. Mike’s stomach gave a feeble kind of lurch. 

“Ta-da,” he took a bow, pausing to slide the perfect omelette onto a plate. 

“Damn,” Ginny mumbled, staring at the breakfast as though it were made of solid gold. “How are you single?”

Realization of what she just said settled over her along with a deep blush. Mike let out a snort of laughter. 

“Eggs weren’t enough to keep the ex happy,” he shrugged, starting the next omelette. “Wish it was as easy as cooking.”

Ginny shuffled her feet, still looking at the eggs. “Cooking isn’t easy,” she pointed out. 

“For you,” Mike teased, enjoying watching her squirm. “But we’ll get you there.”

She smiled at him, giving him that dimpled smirk he often spied on her face when he’d managed to impress her. Mike swallowed thickly. 

“Your turn,” he told his apprentice, handing over the spatula. 

She accepted it eagerly. 

The second omelette cracked in half in the pan, splattering across the stove. The third was more square than round, the fourth a bit too crisp, and the fifth was lopsided. By 6 though, she managed to flip it correctly, delivering it to the plate with obvious pride. 

“See?” Ginny declared triumphantly. 

“Yeah, Rookie,” Mike fought his smile, only managing to quell it down to a lopsided grin. “Don’t get cocky. It’s just eggs.”

“Says you,” she countered cheerfully, pushing the plates towards their squad. The men fell on the food ravenously, offering up compliments and jokes in turn. 

Mike watched them, a strange sort of warmth blossoming somewhere in his chest. 

“Make one for me, Rookie?” he asked, sitting down. 

“Coming right up, Captain,” she winked. 


	3. The Blaze

It was always a possibility that it would all end this way, but Mike didn’t expect it would hurt quite so badly. 

It could be that last time around, he’d just found out his wife was cheating on him and his decision-making skills weren’t the sharpest. A support beam crashing into you had a way of putting things in sharper focus. It let you know what was really important. Last time he was surrounded by flames, Mike had been thinking of the hell his life had become. 

This time…

Well, this time, his thoughts were elsewhere. 

“She’s going to kill me,” he muttered, choking around the words as smoke black as pitch slid under his mask. “Blip too.” It was almost funny. 

Except for the fact that he might have been dying. 

At least the family got out. That was the whole point of this, after all. They were probably outside with his squad, safe and sound. Mike hoped his Rookie wasn’t worrying too much. 

In fact, as his world started to go dizzy, he could have sworn he heard her voice. 

_ An hour earlier... _

Ginny walked as quickly as she dared towards the women’s locker room, trying to shake the first tendrils of panic. She could hear Blip behind her, asking her if she was all right. 

“Stomach,” she waved him off, her excuse thin. “I’ll be right out.”

He watched her go with worried eyes, the rest of the squad quickly closing in. Ginny opened the door, pulling it shut behind her with a snap. She groped along the wall for the light switch, her heart pounding in her ears. 

She was supposed to be over this. Years of therapy, counseling, coping mechanisms...and she couldn’t even look at a car accident without wanting to throw up. 

Bile splashed in her stomach, but she took a steadying breath, leaning against the wall to steady herself. She inhaled, focusing on the pattern of the tile beneath her, counting the squares to calm herself down. 

She’d seen worse. Logically, she knew that. In the last 9 months there had been burning buildings, backyard pool incidents, an electric fire that left the whole squad shaking. This fender bender wouldn’t be her undoing. She wasn’t going to think about it anymore than she already had. 

Ginny looked up, exhaling slowly, studying her face in the mirror on the far wall. No wonder Blip was worried. She looked like she’d seen a ghost. With her ashen complexion and wide, shell-shocked eyes, she looked like she  _ was _ the ghost. 

Gingerly, she splashed her face, attempting to regroup. She would fix on her smile, march out there, and act like everything was fine. 

A knock on the door nearly caused her to jump out of her skin. 

“Rookie,” a deep voice called for her. “You still in there?”

Ginny swallowed, pasting on a grin. “I’ll be right out, Captain,” she called back. 

“No need,” Mike said. “You dressed?”

“What?” Her heart rate picked up again. 

“Are you clothed, Rookie?” Mike asked patiently. “I’m coming in.”

“Yeah… I mean, no. I mean...don’t--”

It was too late. Mike pushed the door open slowly, easing in. He’d cleaned up since the call, removing the splattered uniform. His t-shirt now was perhaps a size too small. It did little to calm Ginny's heart rate.

“Huh,” he looked around, “that’s what it looks like in here.”

“Is it…” Ginny worried her lip between her teeth then released it. “Is it different than the men’s?”

“Nope,” Mike shrugged. “Cleaner maybe.” He turned his dark clever eyes on her. “You ok, Baker?”

“I’m fine,” she said too quickly. 

Her captain wasn’t fooled. He stroked his beard, tugging at the dark hair. “Sit down, Rookie,” he instructed. “Let me tell you a story.”

Ginny raised a brow, looking around. “Want me to sit on a toilet?” she asked, snorting. 

“The counter works, Rook.” Mike rolled his eyes. “I thought young people were supposed to be creative.”

Ginny shook her head but obeyed, clambering up. Mike joined her, leaning his bulk against the Formica counter almost casually. 

“So,” he began, voice pleasant. “There once was this young firefighter and he was really good at his job. Like  _ really _ good. Handsome too. It was actually kind of a problem for the rest of his squad. A distraction, if you will--”

“Captain,” Ginny interrupted. 

“Right, anyway,” Mike shook his head. “This absolute unit of a firefighter had everything going for him. Wunderkind, they called him. The world was his oyster. Then one day, it wasn’t.” Mike sucked at his teeth. “It fell apart one piece at a time. Wife cheated. Then the divorce. Then there was the fire…” He shrugged. “Anyway, he got banged up bad. And everyone wanted to know whether he was fine.”

“Was he?” Ginny asked quietly. She couldn’t take her eyes off him, the faint blush to his cheeks. 

“No,” Mike said. “But he kept telling everyone that he was.”

Ginny processed this. “What if I don’t want to talk about it?” she asked. 

“Tough,” Mike was unconcerned. “I can keep following you into the bathroom indefinitely, Baker. And yeah, HR isn’t going to be happy about it, but you’ll find out there’s not a lot I can’t sweet talk my way out of.” He grinned crookedly at her. 

Ginny wished she could smile back. “You sure you want to know, Captain?” she asked. 

“Yeah, Ginny,” Mike said simply. “I want to know. And don’t worry about those mooks out there.” He nodded his head towards the door. “They’re worried about you, but they can mind their own business.”

“Blip knows,” Ginny said, swallowing. Her mouth had gone completely dry. 

“I figured,” Mike nodded. “Tried to get it out of him. He didn’t budge. He’s a good friend.”

“Yeah,” Ginny agreed. “He is.” She looked up at Mike, at the concern etched all over his face. “My dad died in a car accident.” She said it all in one breath. 

Mike absorbed this for a moment. “I can see how car accidents might bother you then--”

“I was in the car,” Ginny finished.

Mike’s words died in his throat. “Shit, Baker.”

“Yeah,” she agreed. She swung her legs, feeling less like the grown firefighter she was now and more like the child she’d been then. 

“How old?”

“I was 16,” she recounted. “Coming home from a school event. Drunk driver hit us, and he didn’t have his seatbelt on and he…” heat blossomed behind her cheeks, pooling in her eyes until the dam broke. Ginny dropped her hands, attempting to flee again. 

Mike caught her, holding her still. His calloused fingers were warm, surprisingly gentle as they found hers.

“Tell me about him,” Mike requested. 

“The drunk?” Ginny asked, dizzy.

“No, Rookie,” Mike scoffed quietly. “Your dad.”

“Oh,” the question caught her off-guard. Her father’s face filled her mind, threatening to send her crying again. “He was tough,” Ginny said, considering. “Hard on me and my brother. But he loved us.”

“What kind of things did he like?” Mike pressed, the broad surface of his thumb rubbing patterns against the flat of her hand. 

“Baseball,” Ginny smiled, even through her tears. “He used to coach me. I got pretty good.”

Mike grinned. “I bet,” he told her. 

“He was a hard-worker. Complicated, but a good man. He didn’t deserve to die like that.” Ginny sniffled, the warm tears cutting down her cheeks. 

“I’m sure he didn’t,” Mike agreed. “But he sounds like he lived a good life. Sounds like he was a good dad. That’s more than a lot of people can say.”

“Yeah?” Ginny questioned. 

“He left behind good kids. At least a daughter who loves him.” Mike’s hand stilled. 

Ginny squeezed. “Are your parents still alive?” he asked. 

“Yeah,” Mike nodded, sucking at his teeth. “As far as I know. Last time I saw either one of them, I was in the hospital.” He seemed to realize what he was saying and shook his head, offering her a lopsided smile. “I didn’t come out here to talk about me, Baker.”

“I thought you always wanted to talk about you, Captain.” The joke slipped from her lips on a wet laugh. 

Mike was thrilled. “Well, I’m the second most interesting person here by far,” he told her. “Used to be number one. Some Rookie came and stole my thunder.”

“Sorry,” Ginny snorted. 

“Don’t be,” Mike squeezed her hand. “It’s nice having you around.”

“It’s nice being around,” Ginny bumped her shoulder into his. “Even when you’re grumpy.”

“I’m not grumpy,” Mike glowered at her, his lips pulled up in a hint of a smile. 

“You look grumpy with the beard,” Ginny reached up to tug at it before she could think better. Mike indulged her. 

“Ha-ha, Baker,” he pantomimed a laugh. “You love the beard.” He caught her hand, holding it firmly in his. 

“Yeah,” Ginny swallowed, suddenly aware of their proximity. Her heart seemed to leap upwards, her mood swinging so quickly that she nearly lost her balance. With a gasp, she fell forward. Mike caught her. 

“Ginny,” the sound of her name on his lips was one she liked entirely too much. 

“Mike,” she echoed, inhaling sharply as his forehead pressed to hers. She inched forward until she could feel the flutter of his mouth against hers. 

The firehouse alarm went off like a cannon blast, sending them skittering apart. 

Ginny’s face felt as though it were aflame. Judging by his rosy complexion, Mike wasn’t doing much better. He licked his lips once, then cleared his throat. 

“It’s game time, Rookie,” his voice was gravelly. He pushed himself to his feet, rushing for the door. 

Heart pounding, Ginny followed. 

-l-l-l-

Fuck. 

Fuckity-fuck, fuck, fuck. 

It was a mantra by now, a phrase Mike was all too-familiar with. He’d made stupid choices before: trying to reconcile with his ex, running into that collapsing apartment building. This though…

He was the world’s biggest idiot. 

He walked in that bathroom to check on his Rookie, and damn near ended up sucking face. Something about Ginny Baker disarmed him, made him feel less like a man in his mid 30s and more some stupid teenage boy who couldn’t believe that the prettiest girl in school had a crush on him. 

“You ok?” Blip’s question startled Mike out of his self-loathing. 

“Yeah,” Mike ground his teeth, hoping Blip wouldn’t push any farther. “It’s a 3-alarm. Got to go.” 

Blip nodded, breaking into a jog. Mike gripped his arm to stop him. 

“Captain?” Blip raised a questioning brow. 

“Watch Baker for me,” Mike instructed.

"Of course," Blip looked surprised. "Captain..."

Mike released his friend with a nod. "Gotta go, Sanders."

Barking orders felt better than thinking about his life choices, especially when Baker kept looking at him out of the corner of her eye like that.  It was easy to focus on work as they suited up, piled into the truck, hurtled towards the fire. It was even simpler to ignore what had happened when he watched his squad battle the flames spouting out of the apartment complex. Mike could feel the heat from a hundred feet back, the spray of the hose as his team blasted it on all sides. 

Baker was in the front, flanked by Blip and Tommy. Mike watched, making sure she was safe. His squad worked well together, he noted with some pride. Ginny glanced over her shoulder as the flames waned. Her smile warmed him to the core.

Everyone’s smile died as the roof of the apartment nearest to Mike collapsed. Worse still were the screams of what sounded like children coming from inside.

The squad was a hundred yards off at least, and the building was coming down quickly. Mike didn’t have time to think. He seized the last mask hanging off the truck, held it against his bearded face, and plunged in. 

From behind him, he could hear his squad yelling, Ginny loudest of all. 


	4. Saved

It was like the world was moving in slow motion. Ginny saw the roof fall, saw her Captain spring into action. Mike yanked a mask off of the truck and plunged inside the building without a thought. Fear seized Ginny at once. 

“Captain!” she yelled after him, her voice lost in the spray of the firehose. 

Mike didn't look back. Ginny heard the squad begin to panic one by one, and felt Blip’s hand on her back. It wasn’t until she was right at the front door of the apartment that Mike had disappeared into that she realized she’d even been running. 

A look over her shoulder confirmed that half the squad was behind her. Ginny paused to catch her breath, squinting into the dark chasm in front of her. The flames were largely gone, but the smoke choking the air was enough to be deadly.

“Ginny!” Blip’s panicked shout nearly stopped her short. “Don’t do it, Gin, wait--”

“His mask,” she yelled back, unsure whether Sanders could even hear her. “It won’t seal. His beard--”

He’d suffocate. 

She adjusted her own breathing device, steeling her nerve. Ginny plowed forward, ducking in after him. “Captain!” she called, coming up short when she spotted the destruction. The living room in front of her was a labyrinth of flickering flame and twisted furniture. Ginny could hear coughing, a frantic sound. She followed it, going as quickly as she dared. 

“Help!” a woman was screaming frantically. “Please help us!”

Ginny hastened to her, knocking furniture out of the way. A mother came into view, clutching two children to her sides. The trio was clearly terrified, nearly hysterical. Ginny reached for them. 

“Come on,” she instructed, tugging at them. 

Blessedly they followed, the mother seizing one child while Ginny took the other. She delivered them to the door and into Blip’s waiting hands. 

“There’s a man in there,” the woman told Ginny frantically, still choking. “He got stuck getting us out.”

“Stuck where?” Ginny questioned, her voice harsh even to her own ears. 

“The bedroom,” the woman stammered. “His knees. He said something about--”

Ginny spun on her heel, ignoring Blip’s shouts. She could feel him on her heels as she charged in, running for the back room. The falling roof had rendered the door useless. 

“Blip,” Ginny looked back at her friend desperately. “He’s in there.”

With a nod, Blip disappeared outside, re-appearing quickly, this time with an axe. 

“Stand back, Gin,” Blip’s voice had a hard note to it that made Ginny obey at once. She jumped backwards, watching as Blip took the axe to the door. It splintered in three hits, leaving a gap big enough for her to squeeze through. 

“Captain!” she called for Mike as Blip continued working to clear the way back, squinting into the smoky darkness. 

She began to grope about, feeling the rough outline of a chest of drawers, photos on the wall, a melted plastic hamper. The bed, iron wrought and twisted, burned even through her gloves. 

“Mike!” she yelled, desperation increasing. Dropping to her knees beneath the smoke line, she began to examine the floor.

“Rookie?” The answer was quiet, but clear. Ginny followed the sound, heart pounding in her ears. Near the back of the room, huddled behind a fallen pile of drywall and wood, she found him. 

“Captain,” her voice broke around his name. Mike was slumped beside a bed, covered in soot. His breathing was shallow. Ginny crawled towards him shaking him. Mike groaned, coughing. 

“Damn knees,” he lamented, blinking dizzily at her. 

“I got you,” she assured him. Ginny braced herself, looping her hands beneath his arms. Mike was heavy, his bulk sliding against the carpeted floor as he attempted to get his legs under him. 

“Shouldn’t be here, Rookie,” he muttered, stumbling. 

Ginny scoffed, digging in deeper. Slowly, they began to move towards the exit, Ginny taking the brunt of Mike’s weight. 

“I told you about that beard,” Ginny chastised. She shook him gently, trying to keep him conscious. 

“You might have had a point,” he agreed, slumping even more. His head lulled into her, pressing hard against her shoulder. Ginny stumbled. 

“Blip!” she yelled for her friend, attempting to hold Mike up. She rearranged his limbs, trying to hoist him higher. Mike’s hands clasped weakly at her. 

“Shit, Lawson,” Blip dropped his axe, rushing forward to help Ginny. “How do you always get in these damn situations?”

Mike mumbled something that sounded an awful lot like “firefighter.”. 

Inch by painful inch, Blip and Ginny got Mike outside. The squad fell on them at once, pulling him away. Ginny watched through worried eyes as her Captain lost consciousness. It was a flurry of motion as Mike was shepherded away, loaded into the back of an ambulance. 

He was gone before Ginny could even get her bearings, shuttled off to the hospital with the family he had rescued. Ginny stood beside the smoldering apartment, feeling strangely cold despite the dying embers. She shivered, swallowing hard, fighting back an embarrassing display of emotion. 

Strong hands gripped her shoulders. “He’s going to be ok, Gin,” Blip whispered to her. “You did good.”

“Someone should have gone with him,” Ginny said, blinking back tears beneath her mask. 

Blip did not comment on them, only shrugged. “Mike’s used to doing things on his own, Gin,” Blip explained gently. “He’s going to be ok.”

Blip smiled, patting her again, somehow sure that he’d managed to cheer her up. Ginny faked a grin, watching as Sanders traipsed off to help with the cleanup. When she was sure she was alone, she turned back, looking up the road to where Mike had disappeared. 

She felt oddly hollow. 

  
  


-l-l-l-

The raucous rattling of the vibrating cell phone echoed through the otherwise quiet room. It was enough to startle the lone occupant awake. Consciousness returned like a bolt, and Mike blinked blearily at the ceiling. A sterile white light greeted him, along with the acidic smell of sanitized surfaces. Mike groaned, wincing as he moved feebly, feeling more like a raw nerve than a person. 

“You’re up,” Blip’s cheerful overtures were a welcome sound, even with Mike’s pounding headache. 

Mike sat up, groping for the phone. “This yours?” he held up the offending object. 

“My bad,” Blip took it, sitting in the empty chair just inches from Mike’s bed. “Ev’s been blowing me up for updates about you.”

“Tell her not to worry,” Mike muttered. Evelyn’s concern was always appreciated but his throat felt like sandpaper. “I’m alive.” 

“I will,” Blip nodded, already typing away. “Though I hate to break it to you, but it’s not my wife sitting up all night fretting over you.”

“No?” Mike feigned surprise. “That stings. Thought she and I had something special.”

Blip snorted. “She likes you.” He chuckled to himself. “Just not as much as Ginny does.”

Ginny’s name alone was enough to make Mike’s mind spin. “Baker?” he asked innocently. 

“Yeah, Baker,” Blip wasn’t fooled for a moment. “She ran into a damn burning building for you.” Blip held up the phone. “Smile,” he instructed. 

Mike obeyed, hoping it didn’t look as painful as it felt. “She did what?” he asked half a beat later, anxious for the answer. 

Blip finished up his text leisurely, firing the photo off into cyberspace. “She ran into a burning building to drag your ass out,” he explained patiently. “You don’t remember?”

Mike had a vague recollection, but it felt like the fever dream of a smoke-addled mind. He strained his brain, drawing on a faint memory of hearing Ginny’s voice through the haze, of feeling her hands on him. “She saved me?” he asked, suddenly breathless.

Blip smirked. “That she did. I think she likes you, Mike.”

Mike remained silent, digesting this. 

“I think you like her too,” Blip continued on lightly. 

“She’s a great woman,” Mike admitted, struggling to match his friend’s tone. “A helluva firefighter.”

“Sure is,” Blip agreed. “Shame you can’t date her.”

The air got sucked out of the room at that. Mike attempted a scowl as Blip’s smirk widened. 

“You’ve been thinking about it, right?” Blip pressed. 

Mike’s frown deepened. 

“She has too,” Blip said cheerfully. “Ev and her can’t stop talking about it.”

Mike swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. He needed to get his pulse under control before the monitors he was hooked up to assumed he was having a heart attack. 

“Seems like you both think it would be the end of the world or something,” Blip continued on. “Like all of San Diego’s gonna come burning down if you admit it.”

“I’m her boss,” Mike found his voice, raspy though it was. “She’s--”

“A grown woman,” Blip interrupted. “And you’re a grown man. I think it’s time you had a grown folk talk, don’t you?” Blip stood up, stretching. “I gotta check in with my family, but I’ll be back. You think you’re up for seeing the boys?”

“Always,” Mike answered. The sight of Blip and Ev’s twin sons would be a welcome distraction.

“Good.” Blip smiled. “Your phone is right there,” he pointed. “I think someone’s waiting for you to call her.” He strode forward, hugging Mike. 

Mike held him back, squeezing as tightly as he was able to. “Thank you,” he grunted, inhaling. 

“No problem,” Blip released him. “Do me a favor though,” he prompted. “Before you run into any more burning buildings, think about those knees of yours.” Blip chuckled. “I’m not getting any younger, and you aren’t getting any lighter.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Mike waved him off, wheezing through a laugh. “Go home, Sanders. Tell that family of yours I say ‘hello’.”

“I will,” Blip agreed, strolling out. “Don’t keep Ginny waiting. You might have noticed she’s not too patient.”

The door clicked softly behind him, leaving Mike alone in his hospital bed. Mike sat stock still for a moment, his phone just out of reach. His hand flexed, a memory of Ginny’s fingers around his returning. 

Mike sighed, tugging at his beard. “Screw it,” he spoke, shaking his head. “I’m already in trouble.”

He picked the phone up. 


	5. Patience

**Mike:** _“This probably isn’t a good idea, Baker.”_

 **Ginny:** _“Why not? We’re just talking.”_

 **Ginny:** _…_

 **Ginny:** _“Don’t you text Blip?”_

 **Mike:** _“Gorgeous though Blip Sanders is…”_

 **Mike:** _“You know it’s different.”_

 **Ginny:** _“Maybe”_

 **Mike:** _“Maybe?”_

 **Mike:** _“Feels a lot different. I love Blip...”_

 **Mike:** _“but you dragged me out of a burning building”_

 **Mike:** _“That tends to do something to a person.”_

 **Mike:** _“Did something to me, at least.”_

 **Ginny:** _“I would have done it for any of them”_

 **Ginny:** _“But especially for you.”_

 **Mike:** _“See?”_

 **Ginny:** _“See what?”_

 **Mike:** _“Baker…”_

 **Ginny:** _“Can you talk in a minute? I want to call you.”_

 **Mike:** _…_

 **Mike:** _“Sure.”_

-l-l-l-l-

**Ginny:** _“Are you good at home by yourself?”_

 **Mike:** _“This may come as a surprise to you, Baker, but I’m a grown ass man.”_

 _“_ **Mike:** _I’ve been living by myself for a while. I can even tie my own shoes.”_

 **Ginny:** _“You know what I mean! You almost died.”_

 **Ginny:** _“The doctor just cleared you.”_

 **Ginny:** _“You shouldn’t be by yourself”_

 **Ginny:** _“Did you drive?!”_

 **Mike:** _“Blip drove me home, Baker. I’m not insane.”_

 **Mike:** _“And you saved me from the flames. I’m fine, remember?”_

 **Mike:** _“I think you just want an excuse to come over and bask in my presence.”_

 **Ginny:** _“I just want to make sure you’re ok.”_

 **Mike:** _“I’m fine, Baker. I promise.”_

 **Mike:** _“Just going to cook and watch movies.”_

 **Ginny:** _“What movie?”_

 **Ginny:** _“And what are you cooking?”_

 **Mike:** _“Still haven’t picked. And I’m thinking about steak.”_

 **Ginny:** _“I LOVE steak.”_

 **Mike:** _…_

 **Mike:** _“Then get over here, Baker.”_

 **Mike:** _“But we’re JUST eating.”_

 **Mike:** _“We talked about this.”_

 **Ginny:** **_“_ ** _I remember”_

 **Ginny:** _“See you in 5.”_

  
  


-l-l-l-l-

**Mike:** **_“_ ** _Want me to grab you anything?”_

 **Ginny:** _“Coffee?”_

 **Ginny:** _“Wait, no. Tea.”_

 **Ginny:** _“Chai tea.”_

 **Ginny:** _“The sweet kind.”_

 **Mike:** _“Obviously. Hot or cold?”_

 **Ginny:** _…_

 **Ginny:** _“Medium?”_

 **Mike:** _“Baker…what the hell is medium temperature?”_

 **Ginny:** _“Like...no ice. But not hot.”_

 **Mike:** _“You want a lukewarm tea? I regret asking.”_

 **Ginny:** _“Please?”_

 **Mike:** _…_

 **Mike:** _“Fine.”_

 **Mike:** _Chocolate croissant?”_

 **Ginny:** _“Yes please :)”_

  
  


-l-l-l-l-

**Mike:** _“I’m pretty sure we jumped over the boundary of what’s appropriate for coworkers.”_

 **Ginny:** _“I think you’re being dramatic.”_

 **Ginny:** _“I didn’t even touch you.”_

 **Mike:** _“Baker…”_

 **Ginny:** _“Was it the dinner? The cuddling on the couch? Me passing out at your house again?”_

 **Ginny:** _“Or is it just being around me?”_

 **Mike:** _“First of all, I cook for everyone. I’m really generous like that. Second of all, that was not cuddling. If I cuddle you, you’ll know it.”_

 **Ginny:** _“You were sitting awfully close, Lawson.”_

 **Mike:** _“Because you man spread worse than me, Baker. You’re like a couch octopus.”_

 **Ginny:** _“I was comfortable.”_

 **Mike:** _“It’s possible we’re getting too comfortable, Ginny.”_

 **Ginny:** _…_

 **Ginny:** _“You think so?”_

 **Mike:** _“The plan’s not working.”_

 **Mike:** _“We’re going to have to do something about this.”_

 **Ginny:** _“I think I have a new plan. Call me and I’ll tell you.”_

 **Mike:** _“Is this another excuse to hear my sexy voice on the phone?”_

 **Ginny:** _“Mike, I’m being serious.”_

 **Ginny:** _…_

 **Ginny:** _“And yes it is.”_

 **Mike:** _“I knew it ;-) “_

 **Ginny:** _“Don’t get cocky.”_

 **Mike:** _“Too late. Calling now.”_

-l-l-l-l-

**Ginny:** _“It came in the mail today.”_

 **Mike:** _“Yeah? What do you think?”_

 **Ginny:** _“I think I hate studying. But this might be worth it.”_

 **Mike:** _“Just might?”_

 **Ginny:** _“It will be. If I pass.”_

 **Mike:** _“Ok, Miss-First-Female-Firefighter of Station 4. You’ve got this.”_

 **Ginny:** _“If I pass, I won’t be around the station anymore.”_

 **Ginny:** _“I knew that one day I’d be doing this._

 **Ginny:** _A year just went by really quick._

 **Ginny:** _A year and a half, I guess._

 **Mike:** _…_

 **Mike:** _“Ginny, you don’t have to do this…”_

 **Mike:** _“And especially not for me.”_

 **Mike:** _“We’re friends. I like being friends.”_

 **Mike:** _“We can keep being friends.”_

 **Mike:** _“Or not.”_

 **Mike:** _“I can just be your boss.”_

 **Mike:** _“We’ve made it work for a year.”_

 **Mike:** _“Whatever you want to do.”_

 **Mike:** _“The point is, don’t change”_

 **Mike:** _“because of me”_

 **Mike:** _…_

 **Ginny:** _“Mike, I’m going to stop you right there.”_

 **Ginny:** _“I’d be doing this anyway.”_

 **Ginny:** _“I’m doing this for ME.”_

 **Ginny:** _“Just like I became a firefighter for me.”_

 **Mike:** _“Ok.”_

 **Mike:** _“Ok.”_

 **Ginny:** _“Ok?”_

 **Mike:** _“Good.”_

 **Ginny:** _“Don’t get me wrong, Lawson.”_

 **Ginny:** _“You’re a HUGE perk.”_

 **Mike:** _…_

 **Mike:** _“Are you calling me fat, Baker?”_

 **Ginny:** _“Thicc is the term I would use.”_

 **Mike:** _“What is that spelling? That’s horrible.”_

 **Mike:** _“Is this some kind of millennial slang?”_

 **Ginny:** _“You’re so old.”_

 **Mike:** _“Still sexy though.”_

 **Ginny:** _“... sure.”_

 **Mike:** _“Anyway, do you need help studying?”_

 **Ginny:** _“I’d say yes, but something tells me we won’t get much studying done.”_

 **Mike:** _“I’m a GREAT study-buddy Baker. Ask Sanders.”_

 **Ginny:** _“Hahaha, Blip doesn’t want me to talk to him about you.”_

 **Ginny:** _“He says to leave him out of it.”_

 **Ginny:** _“Guess Ev won’t shut up about her theory.”_

 **Ginny:** _“What theory?”_

 **Ginny:** _“That we’re… you know.”_

 **Mike:** _“I don’t know, Baker.”_

 **Mike:** _“That’s part of the reason why this is so hard.”_

 **Ginny:** _“Oh is it hard? ;-)”_

 **Mike:** _“Pervert.”_

 **Mike:** _“Tell Ev not yet.”_

 **Mike:** _“But tough shit for Blip. This is only going to get worse.”_

 **Ginny:** _“Hahaha...Poor guy.”_

 **Ginny:** _“See you at their house for lunch?”_

 **Mike:** _“I’ll meet you there.”_

  
  


-l-l-l-l-

**Mike:** _“Well?”_

 **Ginny:** _“Well what?”_

 **Mike:** _“Don’t play with me Baker. My old heart can’t handle it.”_

 **Ginny:** _“Don’t play the old card on me now, Lawson.”_

 **Ginny:** _“Not when I just did all this work.”_

 **Mike:** _“Seriously, Ginny. How did it go?”_

 **Ginny:** _…._

 **Ginny:** _“Answer your door and I’ll tell you.”_

-l-l-l-l-

She’d been in the very same room dozens of times over the last half year, but Mike’s living room suddenly seemed suffocating. It could have been the man himself, looming large, arms crossed, staring at her with dark, attentive eyes. He tapped his fingers wildly against his bicep, wetting his lips before speaking. 

“So…” he started, his voice a deep rasp. 

Ginny smiled, stepping closer. “You’re looking at a lieutenant now, Captain,” she held out the folded piece of paper that had come in the mail. 

Mike took it but didn’t open it. A blush was creeping up his neck from below his gray t-shirt. It drew Ginny’s eyes at once. “Then I’m not your captain anymore, Rookie.”

“I’m not a rookie,” she corrected. 

The corner of Mike’s mouth tugged up in a smile. “You’re my Rookie,” he said lowly, setting the test results on the coffee table between them. 

Ginny cleared the furniture in three steps and a jump, leaping into Mike’s already open arms. He caught her, hefting her up just high enough to spin them around and onto the couch. They went down in an undignified pile, a clash of groping hands and twisted limbs. Mike’s weight on her was a welcome one. Ginny curled against him, tangling her hands in his hair. 

“Mike,” it was the only word her mouth could seem to formulate. She would have been embarrassed had he not looked just as shell-shocked. 

“Wait,” he mumbled, sitting up. Ginny went with him, her arms draped over his wide shoulders. 

“Wait?” The task seemed impossible. She’d been waiting. They’d waited nearly a year since their near kiss in the women’s bathroom at the firehouse. Months of furtive looks, charged conversations, long pauses as something grew between them that was anything but platonic. She was done waiting. 

Mike had other plans. Patiently, he untangled them, sitting them both beside one another on the couch. She was close enough to count the faint freckles on his skin. His smell, soap and cologne and detergent, his warmth, it was all suffocating. She wanted to drown in it. 

“I’m doing this right, Baker,” he correctly read the pout of her lips, smirking to himself. 

“Mike, I don’t want to wa--”

His hands curved along her jaw, pulling her in. Ginny had time to gasp once before he pressed his mouth to hers, kissing away her impatience. Every neuron in her brain fired at once, sending a flood of sensation through her. Ginny moaned against his lips, climbing closer to him until they were pressed flush against one another. Mike tilted his head and she opened her mouth for him, slouching against him contently as he took her apart. 

“Good?” he asked on a smirk when she pulled back, breathless and flushed. 

“Yes,” she didn’t have the wit to deny it. Instead, she tugged at his beard, pulling him back to her. 

She wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, smashed together on his couch, hands wandering. By the time her legs began to go numb, Mike was already lifting her up. 

“Your knees,” she protested weakly as he carried her. 

“Can take it,” he assured her, hurrying her down the hall and into the one room in his house she’d yet to see. 

His bedroom was as clean and orderly as the rest of his house. Mike’s presence was stronger here. Ginny took a moment to absorb it all. 

“You sure about this, Baker?” Mike’s voice was soft in her ear. He lowered her to the ground, releasing her. 

Ginny reached for the hem of her shirt, pulling it straight over her head. “I’m sure, Mike,” she told him. “Can you please stop asking stupid questions and come here?”

With a grin, he obeyed. 

Disrobing went quickly, cotton layers shed almost frantically until they were both bare. Ginny shivered under Mike’s watchful eyes, trembling outright when his hands found her skin. He wasted no time acquainting himself with the smooth curves of her body, tracing muscled limbs until he found the places that made her squirm. 

She moaned loudly when he dipped his fingers between her legs. Mike could barely hear her over the blood pounding in his ears. 

“Damn, Gin,” he groaned into her neck, sucking at the skin to stifle a groan. “That's all for me?”

He expected her to berate him for his corniness. What was even more pleasurable was the way she writhed against him, spreading her legs wider for his exploration. 

“Depends,” she gasped, groping down his body. “Is this for me?” Her hand caught him snuggly. Mike’s vision went white. 

“Yeah, baby,” he groaned this time, pushing against her. “That’s for you.”

Mike had never considered himself to be a pillar of patience. And while the last year of his life had been like living in purgatory, it all became worth it the moment he slid into Ginny. Her body gripped at his like they weren’t meant to be together this way, as though she was waiting for him too. 

When she grabbed his face, tugging him impatiently down again to kiss him, all rational thought ceased. 

They laid beside one another hours later in his darkened room. Ginny smiled contently, eyes closed, skin glowing. 

“That was worth it,” she whispered, kissing his forehead. 

Mike pulled her closer, tugging her beneath his arm.

“Yeah, Rook,” he chuckled. “It definitely is.”


	6. Parking Lot Redux

As far as birthdays went, this one took the cake, pun intended. 

Ginny hopped into her car, a grin splitting her face. She threw her new Honda into drive, steering up the road towards a familiar fire house. 

Mike was waiting in the parking lot, leaning on his Tacoma, staring expectantly. Ginny swung her car to a halt in front of him, hopping out before the engine had completely stopped. 

“Well?” he asked expectantly, pulling his ball cap down over his eyes to shade his face. 

“It's official,” she announced, brandishing the paper with a flourish. 

Mike nodded seriously, only the quirk of his lips at the corners giving him away. “Well Rookie,” he began. “Guess you’re not my problem anymore.”

Ginny stepped closer, pausing when she was within reach. “Guess not, Captain,” she confirmed. She strolled forward, tugging her lip between her teeth as her mind turned to other matters. 

Mike noticed at once, wetting his own lips as he met her halfway. “I’m starting to think you’ll always be my problem, captain or not.” He caught her around the waist, closing the distance between them. 

Ginny pulled him down, catching his lips in a kiss. The chaste lip lock soon escalated until she was forced to lock her arms around Mike’s neck to keep her balance. Her brain went fuzzy as Mike parted her lips, taking her apart little by little. One thought remained abundantly clear:

There were things on this Earth that were definitely worth the wait. 

“All right!” Blip’s voice broke through, amusement clear in his laugh. “Who had 5 minutes?”

“Me!” Tommy piped up, fist pumping as the squad began to pay out. 

“What are you idiots talking about?” Mike’s commanding tone was undermined somewhat by how red he’d gone in the face. 

“We figured it was only a matter of time after Baker passed the lieutenant’s test that you’d be out here making a damn fool of yourselves,” Blip announced matter-of-factly. “I figured you’d might have the self control to wait until you were in private, but Tommy knew better.” 

Tommy shrugged. “It was a sure bet,” he said. 

Ginny laughed, releasing Mike. “Aren’t you going to congratulate me?” she asked. 

“Got a whole party inside, if you can stop making out like teenagers and get in here,” Blip fired back. 

Mike tossed an arm over her shoulder, pulling her towards the firehouse. “You’re always embarrassing yourself out here, Baker,” he quipped, wincing when she pinched him. 

“And you’re always right there with me,” she pointed out. 

Mike only grinned, kissing her forehead as they walked into San Diego Fire Station No 4. 


End file.
